Beauty and the Beast: A Thousand Names
by Moonlit Water Sunny River
Summary: A 100-oneshot collection. Envy Angevin and Edward Elric have been called a thousand names for being exactly who they are, and they're not the only ones. Join young queers, disabled teens and abuse survivors as they take on the world - and win. Rewrite/reimagining of Seven Names/Seven Reasons. Spiritual successor to Beauty and the Beast.
1. Dance

**Because I am lazy and tied myself in moral and logistal knots in the full-length SNEA, I am making up for it with THIS. Beauty and the Beast PART TWO – set in a SNEA-similar setting! :D :D :D**

**Things to know (especially if you haven't read SNEA)**

**-This is non-linear. Keep up. :3**

**-No, none of the pronouns or descriptions are mistakes.**

**-This is not exactly like SNEA – it takes ideas and some plot points from it, but it simplifies it a lot. Also it is less try-hard. (or maybe more. I'm pretentious as all hell so eh, who knows)**

**-The plot isn't gonna be all that unified – some running arcs, but mostly character moments and themes I want to explore. **

**Dance**

Envy never thought she'd have to relearn how to dance. It seems basic enough, but she keeps trying to go forward instead of back, and Ed has to keep coaxing her to take his lead, which galls her for a _number _of reasons. It doesn't help that she _knows _that everybody is staring at them.

Great. The first school dance she's ever had the guts to actually attend, and she's already the freak. Or still the freak. She really can't quite figure it out at this point.

Ed leans forward and whispers, "Don't worry, I had a tough time with it too."

It takes her a moment. "What?"

"Just relax. And besides, nobody will notice if you lead a bit. You're taller than me, anyway."

"Oh, thank you _so _much for pointing that out." But Envy's blushing a little, because she's starting to realize that maybe she and the newcomer who asked her to dance have more in common than she thought.


	2. Trade

**Another reminder that these are semi-non-linear – this one is set after they're already friends.**

**Also, most/all of these will revolve around similar subjects. Many are the same things that SNEA touched on (abuse, rape, sexuality) but moreso there's going to be stuff on gender, gender identity/expression and discrimination. I'm also going to talk about disability a bit because it's close to my heart. I would love to bring race into it buuuut… FMA is shockingly, overwhelmingly white. So I'm gonna be careful with that one.**

**TW: Slurs**

Trade

They never really talk about it. They don't really need to – with Envy, it's still horribly, painfully obvious (at least it is to her) that the way she _is _and the way she _looks _just don't match up. Ed is luckier. He's short, yes, but he's got a strong face and a flat chest and an attitude that means people don't care as much.

One day, though, after another person yells 'dyke' at him as they walk by, Ed sighs and asks her, "Wouldn't it be nice if we could trade?"

Envy thinks about it, then shrugs. "I dunno. Not sure I could pull off being blonde." That earns her a friendly wallop with Ed's lunchbag.


	3. Rain

**Trigger warnings, for those who don't know, are basically warnings for content that may be upsetting to some people. I find them really important. If there's anything you need to have tagged at the beginning of a story, let me know. Especially a story like this.**

**TW: Slurs, violence, transphobia**

Rain

Another night of screaming, another set of bruises, another tense few moments of swilling the pills in her hand and willing herself to take them – and she's out in the rain again, green hair clinging to her face and her neck and sending drops of water down the back of her hoodie. She's barefoot. She doesn't mind.

So off she wanders. None of them understand. Wrath comes close, but he's nothing but a ball of rage now – nothing but what Greed has made him. Lust is closer even, but while she can understand fluid sexuality, it's gender she can't quite get her head around. In a way, her mother and father are the easiest in their blind hatred of what she stands for.

_Tranny. Whore. Disgrace._

Envy finally gets to her place – the park, quiet and dreary on these types of nights, when the unpredictable Ottawa weather lets loose a rainstorm on a summer evening. Except there's someone else there.

"…Hello," she says, hoping they don't notice, hoping whoever it is doesn't take that vital second to notice that she's a boy in girl's clothing, or the bruises, or that she's crying and tender and vulnerable. But then she sees the glint of gold when he looks up, although his eyes are flat and sad.

Ed gives her a slow, sad smile. He's not bruised, not outwardly, but she can see the shaking in his hands and the trembling of his lips. She sits down next to him. The rain doesn't bother her much now.


	4. Denial

**TW: Misgendering, transphobia, internalized misogyny/homophobia/transphobia, slurs, general sadness**

Denial

"Get that shit away from me," he (_she) _growled. "I'm not watching that with you. It's for faggots."

Wrath nearly starts bawling at that, and Lust intervenes, pulling Wrath away with a promise that she'll watch it with him later. "_Envy! _Don't you _say _stuff like that!"

He (_she_) shrugs. He _(she) _ignores her.

He mercilessly chokes the part inside that keeps screaming "can't you see what you're doing to yourself".

Because, doesn't everybody do that?

He (_she)_ stole the dress from Lust's wardrobe. It's one she hates – she won't notice it missing. She hates it because an old boyfriend gave it to her. But Envy loves it. It's black silk (or something close enough) and when he (_she) _pulls it over her head, it feels warm and smooth and comforting.

The first look is disappointing. It's big in some places and small in others, and droops in the front and is too tight in the hips so that Envy needs to tug it into place, and he _(she) _just looks like a little boy playing dressup.

It's a long time before he tries again.

It's a word buried in the back of a book in the depths of the school library. He doesn't remember what the book is, nothing except the glossary he ended up at after skimming through the book in the boredom, and the word staring up at him.

_Transgender._

He _(she) _is one of the clever ones. Always been told how smart he _(she) _is. So why didn't Envy know that in all the world, she wasn't the only one?

And now she cringes when Lust makes bawdy jokes around her and Greed about her girlfriend's vagina, wants to scream at her about how not everything is about what's between someone's legs because now she _knows _why she's never been normal and _why can't I just have been born like Lust_

and she hides in her room, almost wishing she was still in denial, because the truth fucking hurts.


	5. Angels

**Angels**

Ling has a pair of angel wings tattooed on his back. They're not huge ones – just little ones that dance just between his shoulder blades. He isn't shy about showing them to Envy for the first time, either – he strips his shirt right off and flexes his arms, posing with his back to her.

Envy covers her eyes. Ed rolls his. "Unlike _most _of us, Ling has no qualms about showing off."

"And why shouldn't I?" he responds. "I'm _hot._"

Envy can't disagree. She certainly keeps it to herself. Ling is yet another of those people whom she never even knew existed until Ed showed up. She doesn't want to risk it now.

Ling is… _not-right _himself. In the same way that Wrath is _not-right. _She doesn't know how else to say it. It's not a bad thing. It makes her feel more at home.

"How'd you get them?" she asks.

Russell, another of Ed's (and Envy's, she guesses) new friends, snorts from the other end of the pool, where he's kicking his feet in the water. "The usual way, a ballpoint pen and a needle." Envy hopes he's joking.

Ling laughs at that, sitting down on the tile by Envy's chair. "Well, I was having a rough time." He must see the surprise on her face, because he gives her a wry grin. "I wasn't _always _this confident, darling. I got pushed around a lot when I was twelve, thirteen…"

Envy wonders if there is such thing as coincidence, that so many terrible things and great discoveries happen at the cusp of puberty.

"Anyway, my family are sorta half-Christian – y'know, celebrate Christmas, go to Mass every month or so – so I tried praying." Ling looks a little embarrassed, and his voice grows a little quiet. "I asked for an angel to come and help me."

Ed is somewhere else, Envy realizes. This really is the two of them. Ling is speaking lowly, trusting her with this. She doesn't know what to say, but somehow her lips open anyway. "I…I gather you didn't get one," she says, wincing as her voice comes out raspy, deeper than she usually aims for.

Ling shrugs. "I don't know if I was expecting an _actual _one. But after a bit, I realized you can't wait for somebody to rescue you. You have to do it on your own." He grins, a huge smile that lights up his handsome face. "So I got the tattoo."

"And rescued yourself, huh?" Envy leans her cheek on her hand, a smirk playing around her features. "So, uh, how did that go?"

Ling roars with laughter at her comment. "You _had _to ask. Three suspensions, one expulsion, ran away from home a few times, and arrested…uh… a couple times. Never charged though."

She can't help but chuckle. "You _criminal, _you." Ling is the opposite of scary. He's a giant ball of fun and energy and passion. He may have only been trying to save his own skin, but to Envy, he's a bit of an angel himself.


	6. Demons

**I made it a bit vague what exactly it is Ling is fighting here, but attentive readers will probably figure it out soon. I know the themes are all over the place, but I like the idea of painting a picture rather than telling a single linear cohesive story – it's more fun in some ways.**

**TW: drug references**

Demons

Envy holds her best friend's hands, feeling how they shake. "It'll be alright," she whispers, over and over, tracing circles around the backs of his hands, on his palms, everywhere she can reach. She's nervous about holding him, and he won't let her anyway – the shakes are too bad.

Ling shivers, curling up tighter on the couch. She moves a little closer. Ed's gone home, to take care of Al and take his medication, but the real reason (she thinks) is that Ed and Ling have been friends too long. They grew up together, had the same pains, but now Ling has his own demons to exorcise and Ed doesn't have the strength to help.

Envy bends her head over Ling, making shushing sounds and rubbing his hands. "It'll be alright," she murmurs again.

He shakes his head. "…Why didn't he come?"

For a second, Envy thinks he's talking about Ed, but then her stomach drops out. He's talking about Russell.

There's so much she wants to say, so much that conflicts with itself. _He won't come back. Don't wait for him. He's not worth it. _But she also knows Russell, and she knows her own mind, and she knows how people are when they're scared, and she _knows _that nobody understood what Ling was fighting, what he was struggling with, and what he needed.

She releases one of his hands and touches his back, gently. She finds the tattoo between his shoulder-blades. She traces it, over and over again, willing strength into him, willing herself to be just as strong.

"You can do this," she whispers.

For the first time, he looks up at her, and there's a glow in her chest as he gives her that Ling-smile, that broad, confident grin. It's at least half-fake, but only that. "I know I can. If you can survive, so can I."


	7. Guns

**This is kind of a reimagining of the scene from Prodigal Son (one of my favourite scenes from SNEA!) for all those who wanted to see more familiar scenes :)**

**TW: Guns, death, abuse, suicide, creepiness**

Guns

She knows where it is. She takes it out of the lockbox that's never really locked (appearances are everything in this little house of horrors) and holds it flat against her thigh.

She heads for his room. She caresses the grip, feeling it slide and catch against her callused fingers, her chewed nails, the scars on her palms from playground scrapes and scuffles. The metal is cold against her leg, through the fabric of jeans she slept in, tossing and turning, waiting for a chance.

Wrath's door is closed. Good.

Lust's door is slightly ajar, but the room is dark. She's either alone, or out. And if she's alone, she's asleep.

Greed's door is wide open. There's no sign of his true nature on the white wood, just his name on a door sign with a few cheeky doodles on it. Appearances are everything in this house of horrors.

She opens the door. There he is, sprawled out on the sheets with his chest bare, snoring. There's no gel in his hair now – it falls over his face in tousles, and it makes her heart hurt. He's surrounded by all his little trappings. Normal things. Headphones, records, a guitar in the corner, a few scattered books. It all looks normal. Appearances are everything.

But then she approaches him, the gibbous moon shining on his face, and the gun suddenly feels very heavy in her hand. He's not even full-grown. He's only a few years older than her, a young man with his mother's beauty and his father's strength and size (and his father's temper and his father's attitude, never forget that).

She swallows, swallows again, and suddenly she can feel his hand at her throat again, and everywhere else, and the sick, roiling feeling is in her stomach again.

For a moment, she believes she hears the report, feels it recoil in her hand, and she dreads to look. But nothing has changed. She hasn't even raised it, can't bear to aim it at him, can't bear to even put her finger on the trigger.

She returns the gun.

She returns to her room.

She holds the pills in her hand (the pills she keeps meaning to take and never does), and she cries herself to sleep.


	8. L'esprit d'escalier

**Yes, Ed is autistic. So are a few other characters in this – four so far, possibly more. Spectrum disorders are close to my heart.**

**(But seriously, autistic Ed is so canon it's unbelievable.)**

**Also, timeline-wise, this is about two/three weeks from the first chapter, and all the ones where Ed and Envy are already friends are for the most part in order. The rest are flashbacks.**

**TW: Misgendering, body parts (?) transphobia/cissexism**

L'esprit d'escalier

It's not the constant assault she'd come to expect, learning what she had from the media. Of course, they are in less danger than some – the two of them live in a good neighborhood, and they're not obvious about it, either - Envy very rarely wears obviously-feminine clothing. It's the little things. Her eyeliner, Ed's bound chest and plaid overshirts, the smoother curve of Ed's face compared to her angled jaw, and of course, the height difference.

So, of course, they get looks. Ling gets looks too, whenever he strolls into school with earrings in or floral-print skinny jeans or a pink tube-top. (It's different with Ling, of course – he bears himself with such easiness and casual comfort in everything he does that, talking to him, it's hard to even notice he's not wearing the 'right clothes'). Envy gets most of them, but she's weird anyway. Ed – Ed is the one who nobody really thinks about, because he passes and even when he doesn't – well, he wouldn't be the first girl to wear combat boots and Levis and walk with a swagger. (Envy honestly thinks he tries a bit too hard, but she's not gonna say a thing.)

They're walking down the street after school. Ling and Russell have skipped off to do homework together (Ling calls it a date, Envy's not sure what Russell thinks it is) and so Envy's walking Ed home, casually holding hands with him. To anybody watching they must look like a romantic couple, but it's a lot simpler than that – it's their little way of keeping each other grounded. (Especially today, when Ed looked ready to spin off the world completely all afternoon, stimming over and over again with his silver necklace.)

Someone comes down the road. Ed's hand suddenly clamps down on hers.

"You know her?" she asks.

"Kind of," he mutters in a low, nervous voice. "Her name's Gracia." He plasters on a fake smile – one Envy's seen him use a few times already, even though they've known each other less than a month. It's his 'please-don't-make-me-do-this' smile, his 'practiced-for-hours-in-the-mirror' smile, his 'this-is-how-to-be-polite-right' smile. Envy's sure his mother is a wonderful person but she should have known that Ed was a little bit of a lost cause in terms of social niceties.

Gracia approaches anyway, a smile spreading across her face. And when she opens her mouth, it's like she's addressing a stranger. "_Elza! _I haven't seen you in forever!"

Envy's confused for a moment until she sees Ed's face.

"Yeah, sorry, Mrs. Hughes. I know it's been a while." The words sound natural but the body language is wooden. Envy can't decide whether to let go of Ed's hand or hold onto it.

"How's school? I know switching back was hard – oh, sorry, is this a friend of yours?" Gracia interrupts herself. She seems nice enough, but Envy can feel fury bubbling up inside her chest. She's not even sure if it's justified. _Can't you tell? _She wants to scream. _Couldn't you have asked? _But it's not that simple, and never will be.

"My name's Envy," she says in her sweetest voice (unlike Ed, she actually has the capability to pretend) and offers her hand. Gracia takes it, and Envy sees only the slightest bit of hesitation as she sounds the name to herself.

"Lovely to meet you. Are you a new classmate of Elza's?"

"Um. Yes." She smiles again, trying to think of what to say, but she's completely lost. "Yes, we – we met at the Hallowe'en dance."

"Oh, how lovely! You know, I'm so glad Elza was able to meet somebody – it's always so tough switching schools so late." Gracia catches herself, laughs. "Sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mean to talk like you weren't here."

Ed nods. "It's alright. It has been tough, but Ling's here, so he's been helping me integrate back a bit."

Gracia grins at that. Envy knows she's likeable enough, that she's probably known Ed since before he even knew what being trans was, or that it applied to him, but she still has to resist the temptation to glare daggers into her (she might notice, after all). And still, she can't think of anything to say.

Eventually, Gracia moves on. So do they, walking more slowly, Ed limping on his bad leg a little. Envy remains silent, unsure how to break the awkward tension, unsure how to ease his embarrassment.

"…At least your name isn't Envy."

Ed, who was staring at the concrete below his feet, suddenly guffaws, cackling and falling into the wire fence next to them, pulling Envy with him. "Holy _shit!"_

Envy can't help but laugh too, although she's a little worried about Ed now that he's fallen with her on top of him. "What's going on, meathead?"

He keeps laughing, and wraps his arms tight around her. "That was _great. _Thank you. Now I'm _way _less self-conscious about my stupid name."

She pouts. "Yeah, but now I'm self-conscious about _mine…"_

"Oh, don't worry about it. It's your name, it suits you. Although if you ever want to change it, I bet you'll find one that's just as amazing. Help me up, will you?" Envy does so, giving Ed a boost as he clambers up the fence and onto his feet.

"I'm _really _not sure if that's a compliment."

He waves at her, rolling his eyes. "You know what I mean, stop confusing me. I'm trying to be nice. Not _my _fault your parents have a fetish for old Christian fanfiction or whatever."

Envy gives Ed a (very light) smack on the shoulder, but keeps grinning. "Now _that's _more like you."


	9. Bitter

**Winry will reappear! Also, I know these have been heavy on trans-stuff but it's close to my heart so I promise it will vary.**

**TW: Transphobia, slurs, transmisogyny (referenced)**

Bitter

Ed's bitter sometimes. He can't help it. He has enough to deal with, and it helps him focus, it helps him concentrate.

He's standing in front of Winry. It's the first time they've seen each other since he went to that _other _school, since his breakdown, since – well, he could keep listing things off.

"You look different."

"Yeah. I – I am different."

"How are you holding up?" She's full of kindness, full of love, and Ed wants to collapse into her arms, tell her how much he misses his mum, but there's something else. She doesn't know. And he can't – he can't do this anymore. Not between the constant pain and the stares when he limps around and having to turn around and realize that there's a big hole in his life –

"Winry, I've got to tell you something."

"What is it?" She comes a bit closer, holds his hand, but of course she'd do that, they're friends and have been forever. Winry and Elza. Peas in a pod. Who'd have ever thought two pretty little blondes would want to be engineers? Who'd have ever thought two pretty little blondes would ever do something _important?_

(Ed's bitter sometimes and sometimes he enjoys it.)

But now he can barely move his lips, he's so scared, because he's known this for his whole _life _and now he realizes he has no idea how she'll react.

"Winry, I'm… I'm a boy. I'm trans. I'm – I'm going to go by Edward now. I - hope that's okay," he ends lamely.

"…Oh. Okay." A few seconds pass. "I don't understand."

And it goes downhill from there.

Ed's bitter sometimes. He can't help it. Envy's lying in front of him, lounging in that effortless way she has (he won't admit it but _damn _he's jealous, if he tried that he'd be sore for days, he probably wouldn't be able to move) and he leans back in his chair.

"Do you think it's worth it?" she asks.

Ed knows what she's talking about. He has to think about it, because he might still have Ling, but… "I lost my best friend. I've practically lost my family. I can't even introduce myself without getting called a dyke. Do you?"

He might be better, but he feels suitably sheepish when Envy shrugs off the worse things that have happened to her. "Yeah."

But he figures she's right. She usually is.


	10. Complicated

**I think this one is SUPER DUPER CUTE OKAY**

**Also, timeline-wise, this is their first-ever meeting. So far the order is: Denial, Guns, Complicated, Dance, Rain, Trade, Angels, Demons, L'esprit d'escalier, then Bitter.**

**TW: Um, very slight transphobia?**

Complicated

First day of the new year, and she's in a circle of people she very-vaguely knows, some of whom she's spent two years going out of her way to avoid. Wonderful. _Why on earth does a Grade 11 physics class need a get-to-know-each-other circle, anyway? _She has to wonder.

Anyway, nothing will change.

Except something already has.

It's not that the person sitting directly across from her in the circle, in the black t-shirt and red flannel, doesn't look _somewhat _familiar. It's that she doesn't know them. Everyone else, she knows by name. He stands out for other reasons too – everybody else is sitting cross-legged on the floor, while he's sitting on a chair.

"Alright, class, we'll start with our name and something about ourselves. Something about our family maybe, or something we like to do." Doctor Marcoh tries, he really does. Envy has to smile a little. So it goes around the circle, and she's trying to avoid the gaze of the new boy. She _thinks _he's a boy. But anybody looking at her would say the same, long hair notwithstanding, and that's certainly not true.

Her classmate nudges her. It's her turn. "Oh! Um. I'm Envy Angevin." She pauses. "I'm….complicated." She leaves it at that. Nobody responds – except the newcomer, who snorts, glancing down at his hands and then back up at her with bronzey-gold eyes.

She might just be a teensy little bit attracted to him. (Although it's not like she's going to _act _on it. She's not going to be like Greed, and it's not like she could anyway.)

So around the circle it goes. And finally it gets to him. He pushes his long bangs out of his face, and grins straight at her. "Hey, I'm Ed. I just transferred back here after going somewhere else for a while." He's laughing deliberately but quietly at this point. "It's complicated."


	11. Driving

**I'm sure this is funny to anybody who's had to go through this seminal experience of growing up, but it's HILARIOUS to anybody who's gone through it in Ontario. (If it's too alien to you, look up driving licenses in Ontario, Canada.)**

Driving

Envy learns fairly quickly that Ed and Ling are usually up to no good. Russell already knows this – he's a newcomer to the weird little circle as well, although he met them before she did – but even between the two of them, they can't always tell whether the terrible two are playing some trick or are _genuinely _as boneheaded as they appear.

Unfortunately, this is one of those times when Envy never really finds out which it is. It all starts when Ed and Ling start talking about their licenses.

"Whaddaya _mean _you don't have your G2 yet?"

"I've been a little busy recently, pumpkin-face," retorts Ed, scowling at Ling. "Besides, when did you get _yours? _You turned seventeen like, yesterday."

"Two months ago… I can't believe you forgot when my birthday is!"

"I did not. I was there, asshole."

Russell rolls his eyes and gives Envy a despairing look, but she shrugs. "They're being… well, _Ed's _being man-like. Ling's being Ling-like." Russell snorts, hiding his giggles behind the book he was previously so invested in.

Just to add to Envy's unfortunate comment, now the two of them have their licenses out to compare pictures of all things. "How is it you look hot in _every _picture?" complains Ed, mortified. "I look like a serial killer in mine!"

"You look like a serial killer in _every _picture," deadpans Russell, only looking up from his book again long enough to smirk as Ed gives him the finger.

Envy leans her elbows on the table, trying to catch a glimpse at their pictures without making it obvious that that's what she's doing. She feels guilty about it, but she's curious about Ed – about what changed, about what he did and what he does to pass, to make people see him the way he wants to be seen. It doesn't matter what _she _does, she knows what people see when they look at her.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." She looks up startled, and then starts blushing as she takes in what Ed just said.

"Show you _what?_" she hisses, but Ed just laughs, tapping her on the shoulder with his license.

"Your license. If you have one. Although you'd just be G1, right? Cause you're little."

"I'm not little, you're the shrimp," she mutters, digging in her pocket. "Besides, I'm only a year younger. Here it is."

Ed cocks his head, peering at it. "Huh. Doesn't even _look _like you. Oh, wait, no, that's _definitely _your nose. And nobody else is quite that obnoxiously blonde."

"Oh _shut up! _Look who's talking, you brat!" But Ed is already suppressing laughter, and she flushes again. "You're a jerk."

"I do it out of love."

Russell groans, and Ling goes 'awww' and makes kissing noises at them. Ed swipes at him, and Ling takes the opportunity to steal Envy's license.

"Oh my god you're so cute and tiny!"

"It was less than a year ago…" Envy sticks out her tongue at him. "And are you implying I'm not _still _cute and tiny?"

Ling pulls a faux-hurt face. "I would _never _imply that. I will totally imply that you need a different hairstyle, but that's only because this photo really brings out the fact that your current one was chewed up and spit out by bad 90s grunge bands. If Emppu Vuorinen can't pull it off, neither can you."

"Who? Also, you are _so _gay."

"Philistine. Also, _bi, _thank you very much."

And then it happens. Ed and Ling trade a look, and glance down at the license. Ed asks, "Have you actually started learning yet?"

Envy shakes her head.

And Ed gives the biggest, most evil grin she's ever, _ever _seen.

Russell blanches. "I am staying out of this."

* * *

A few hours later, Envy's in a mostly-empty parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of an SUV, too scared to touch anything. "Maybe I should just let my brother teach me?" (Although she really doesn't want to be alone with Greed in a vehicle, that and Greed isn't what she'd call a good driver.)

Ed pats her on the shoulder. "It'll be fine."

"Isn't this illegal though?"

"Technically yes!" chirps Ling from the backseat as he puts his feet up on the console, only for Ed to push them off. "Completely and utterly."

Envy smacks her head on the wheel. "Ling, how can you have such a good handle on the intricacies of the laws around driving, and still have a police record?"

"Cause that's just how I _roll."_

"Can I kick him out?" she asks Ed.

"Unfortunately, it's his car," Ed says, with more than a little regret in his voice. He actually looks a little queasy. It doesn't make Envy any more confident.

"Actually, it's my dad's. So please don't wreck it."

"You're not helping!" Ed throws a penny at his best friend. It hits Ling in the middle of the forehead, and he falls over on the seat with an exaggerated mewl. "Now keep quiet, cotton-candy-for-brains, before you give her a heart attack."

"You're so meeeaaaan…"

"I've been mean for seventeen years. Get used to it."

"You were actually a really nice baby. At least that's what my mum says –"

"_Anyway – " _Ed cuts him off, turning bright red at the sound of Envy sniggering. "The big pedal down there – that one – that's the brake. The little one is the accelerator."

"…What happens if I hit the wrong one."

Ed makes a face. "_Don't._"

"That's extraordinarily helpful."

"I know. Okay, that's the steering wheel."

Envy gives Ed a scathing look. "Oh. _Really._ I suppose I turn it to go left and right, too."

"If you're going forward, yes. Look, if you know everything already, why don't you try it on your own?" Ed sits back with a grumpy look, and then after a moment of consideration, hurriedly straps himself in.

Envy gives him a scowl, and carefully presses down on the accelerator. Ed tries hard to keep a straight face, but after a minute or so of Envy determinedly revving the engine with nothing to show for it, he keeps screwing up his face but reaches forward and moves the engine to 'Drive', before turning off the parking brake –

-and the car hurtles forward, to the sound of frantic screeching from inside and a panicked voice screaming, "ENVY HIT THE BRAAAAAAAAAAAKE –"

* * *

"I'm really sorry about your face, Ling…" Envy's trying to look contrite between giggling and hyperventilating. Ling just nods, cradling his swollen cheek.

"Ah, don't give him that. He should have been buckled in." Ed does look a little guilty, though, as he dials his phone. "Hey. Hey! Russell!" he says, perhaps a bit more cheery than is _quite _warranted. "I don't suppose you're still around? You are? Great! Listen, we've had a bit of an…" Ed surveys the three of them. "Um. Incident?"

Envy rolls his eyes as Ed cringes. Russell is probably giving him a tongue-lashing. (Envy's not sure what it is, but British accents make sarcasm that much more biting.) "No, nobody's hurt – ok, um, that's not entirely true. Ling's a little bit hurt. He hit his face a little bit. It's kind of his own fault thought –" And this time, Ed has to hold the phone away from his ear.

Envy snorts. Ling gestures to Ed to pass him the phone, and Ed does with a look of relief.

"Hi Russy!" he says, wincing with each word and sounding like he has a mouth of cotton. "If you bring me ice I will make you cookies." There's noise from the other end of the line, and then Ling smiles, although it obviously hurts. "Aw. I knew you loved me. See you soon."

Envy sits down next to the (thankfully undamaged) car, where Ed is digging a painkiller out of his backpack. "Let's never do that again."

"Agreed." Ed grins sheepishly. "I guess I'm not cut out to be your wise mentor-figure."

"Not even _close._" Envy pokes his shoe. "Besides, I'm taller than you."

"Take that back."

"Never."


	12. Simple

**A note on a particular turn of phrase in this chapter: Wrath uses 'she' pronouns for Envy but still calls her his big brother, mostly because they both feel that that's the relationship they still share. It's one of those tricky bits of terminology that are really personal.**

**And yes there are like a billion autistic characters in this. Shush.**

**TW: Abuse, bullying/harassment, ableism (esp. anti-autism/anti-developmental-disability), slurs, generally upsetting**

Simple

Wrath isn't obsessive-compulsive, or a freak, or a crazy, like the people at school call him. He just likes things certain ways. He doesn't like it when things feel strange or sound strange. He doesn't like it when people want him to do two things at once. Sometimes he gets scared or lost and he doesn't know what to do.

But he's not crazy. Or even if he is, he's not sure why everyone _cares _so much. Even when he sits in the back of the class, people go out of their way to make him stop rubbing his hands or biting his nails, or rubbing his feet against the floor. Even when he hides in the bathroom, somebody follows him in to shove him around or call him names. He tries to stay home, but Mother pushes him out of the house anyway. Sometimes she has to drag him through the door.

One day, he comes home crying. Except Mother and Father aren't home – it's Envy and some of her friends. Wrath immediately shrinks into the wall, trying to hide his sniffles.

Envy turns to her friends and murmurs something to them. They nod and move into the other room – one of them, tall and black-haired, gives Wrath a quick smile. Wrath looks away. He doesn't know how to act around people.

"What's wrong?" She kneels down in front of him. He holds out his computer bag, unable to speak.

Envy gives it a look, and then glances up at Wrath's tearstained face as he takes the bag and opens it, pulling out the twisted remains of his computer. "Oh no…" Envy swallows. Wrath can't look her in the face, so he focuses on her throat, on the veins pulsing in it.

Envy puts it down and starts to sign. _Was it an accident?_

Wrath shakes his head and spells out a name. _E-L-Y-S-I-A._

_Why?_

_I don't know. _Wrath tries to wipe his eyes, but he can't stop crying. He takes a deep breath and signs again. _Maybe accident? Maybe not. Mother will be mad._

Envy sighs, and picks up the remnants of the computer again. The screen is shattered, and twisted halfway off of the keyboard. She tucks it under her arm. _Maybe fix? Friends can help._

_Your friends? _Wrath gestures over to the other room. Envy nods, grinning.

_Nice, I promise. Not know sign though._

_Okay. I can try talk. If not, translate?_

Envy nods, and stands up. "They're called Ed, Ling and Russell."

"Are they…" Wrath struggles with the words. He loves Envy to pieces, but he has a hard time with the terminology she's been teaching him sometimes. "Like you?" he finally says.

"Hm? How?"

"Um. Are they boys or girls?" He's speaking too quietly, he knows that. His throat hurts. He's worried he's going to hurt Envy.

"Oh, I see! Um, Ed's a boy. Ling is a Ling. But you can use boy words. And Russell's a boy."

"Okay," Wrath says quietly, and follows Envy into the other room, although he hangs behind while Envy explains the situation – or at least part of it to the two other teenagers. He studies them from a distance, curious about the new people in his big brother's life.

The blond is Ed, apparently. He's short, slim, with broad shoulders, blond hair in a long braid, gold eyes, tanned skin. There's something under his shirt that bunches up around his ribcage in strange ways. Combat boots, black skinny jeans. He moves like somebody in pain – Wrath understands what _that's _like, although he's not sure if he'll find bruises under all that clothing.

Envy gives him the computer, and Ed makes a horrified face at it. "Good god. Did someone step on this?"

"Yes," responds Wrath quietly, without thinking.

Ed looks up, startled. "Oh jeez. That can't have been good. Um, not sure what I can do. I'm not good with the physical part of things."

The black-haired one, the one who smiled at him, laughs at that. He's draped over the couch in a way Wrath knows Mother would hate, but it's oddly reminiscent of Greed as well. Still, he looks friendly enough. Wrath supposes this is Ling. He is tall, lanky. Fluffy blue scarf over a black turtleneck, another pair of skinny jeans but these ones have flowers embroidered on the sides. Wrath thinks they look pretty, but they must itch on the inside. "Use duct tape?" he suggests. Wrath's not sure if he's joking.

Ed shrugs. "Could work. Damn thing won't start though."

"But the screen's broken," says the third one with a frown. He's another blond, short hair, in a white button-up shirt.

"It'll still start, just won't show anything." Ed smacks the side of the computer with a scowl, and then he grins. "There we go! It was the cold, I think. Computers go to _shit _in the winter." He glances at Wrath and cringes. "Sorry. Uh, pretend you didn't hear that."

Wrath sniggers. There's a lot of people in the room, but he likes them. They're not as overbearing as some, and while he can feel the anxiety going up and down his spine, there isn't the same nervous energy as he gets when he's at school or around the rest of his family. "Okay." He wishes he could say more, but it's almost more than he can manage to speak at all. He wishes he could sign to them, but they might not be so nice then.

"Okay, looks like the screen's cracked, not completely broken. Look, it's still showing up." Ed shows it to Envy, who shrugs. "Take it to a proper repair place and they can probably patch that up. Duct tape should take care of the hinge – it's pretty broken, but as long as you don't force it to support too much weight it should be all right."

Wrath stares at his feet, suddenly overwhelmed. He thought he'd have to go the rest of the year without a computer, but he's going to get to keep it –

_Want to talk to you, _he suddenly signs to Envy. Envy nods, and waves her hands at the other three.

Outside, Envy looks worried. _Okay?_

_Am I simple?_

_Who told you that?! _Envy's signs are angry, and Wrath can see the hurt on her face. Hurt for _his _sake.

_E-L-Y. Stepped on it when I left it on floor, called me lots of names when I told her to be more careful._

_What kinds of names?_

Wrath hesitates. He doesn't want to start crying again. _Moron. Simple. "What kind of idiot leaves computer in aisle." Said I was packing. _He pauses, and then continues with a little smile. _Then said she was idiot for wearing miniskirt in January. She left._

Envy laughs at that one, worried face cracking into a smile. "Good for you," she says, but the smile doesn't last long. _You go lie down, do homework, whatever. I and Ed fix together. I take to repair place. Mother never knows._

_Thank you._

_Don't worry. _Envy gives Wrath's hand a squeeze, and then heads back into the room.

Wrath goes the other way, closing the door of his own room behind him. It's been a stressful day. He finds his MP3, he finds his blankets, he finds his book (rubbing the pages between his fingers – they're soft from years of reading) and finds his spot on the floor, and for a while it's like he's alone in the world.


	13. Routine

**This one is super Canadian. I REFUSE TO APOLOGIZE. It's…also pretty sad. Sorry.**

Routine

One of the things Envy dreads the most about hockey season is Lust's idea of 'family bonding'. Usually she can escape it during the off-season of the summer, but by September she and Wrath are stuck back in front of the television.

It's a funny little routine. It would be almost enjoyable if it weren't for, you know, _everything. _Greed, the only actual hockey fan there, will park himself right in the middle of the couch, with either a beer or a jumbo Coke (or a mix of both) and a bowl of popcorn; Lust will sit next to him and pretend not to be fiddling with her phone the whole time. Envy and Wrath both try to avoid the seat next to Greed, but invariably one of them will end up next to him, trying to pretend that he isn't touching their shoulder or their waist or their neck.

Sloth, of course, _always _manages to be late enough to avoid this little shuffle completely. She simply crosses her legs and sits on the floor, keeping her distance from everybody else. It's days like this that Envy almost hates her little sister.

Greed will shush them repeatedly during the first period, although he'll shout in exultation if 'his' team scores. (His team changes with every game; usually he'll support the Habs if they're around, the Sens if they're not, but only with great trepidation will he support _any _American team.) Lust will make an effort to look excited, then go back to texting…somebody.

Sloth is the only other one who actually seems to enjoy it. One day Envy makes the mistake of asking her why. She gets a response, something to do with calculating odds and percentages and statistics, and regrets asking. Envy knows Greed usually has a bet or two down at the local pubs; chances are Sloth has a few as well.

As for Envy and Wrath, by the second period, they usually have the confidence to start teasing. For Wrath, it depends on how he's feeling, but he'll come out with something like "So was that a touch-down?" or some other malapropism that makes Greed purple with frustration. (It's the kind of frustration they can handle; the type that just has him ranting about people who don't _appreciate _sports. It's the other kind of anger Envy hates and Wrath fears – the quiet kind that suddenly erupts when they least expect it.) Envy sometimes will join in; other times she'll mangle the names of players.

"Tomas Plekanec. Repeat after me. Tomas Plekanec."

"Tomas Pelkannik. Thomas Mechanic. Thomas Break-a-neck."

Greed rolls his eyes. "You're doing this on _purpose._"

"I would never," she retorts.

Occasionally it almost feels like what a family is supposed to.

But not quite.


	14. Ugly

Hey folks! Sorry about the delay – HOTP stole all my creative energy for a while, and then my 'writing advice' thingies on Tumblr kinda sploded O.O Check them out if you want! They're really informal and casual, maybe overly so at times, and I've tried to focus on topics that don't get a lot of attention otherwise.

As for this chapter – well, you'll understand why it took so long once you read it. Make sure to check the trigger warnings below!

**TW: sexual assault, violence, traumatic reaction, dissociation/unreality. This is a MAJORLY triggery chapter so be careful!**

Ugly

Everything changes, except it doesn't.

She walks to school silently, slowly, and even starts to wonder why she can't feel the ground beneath her feet. The world hasn't stopped – there are cars going past, blowing exhaust in her face and swirling dust around her ankles; there are other people going past, chattering to each other or into their phones, or just bobbing their heads to something only they can hear.

No, she's the one who's stopped. Time has stopped around her. She is frozen; the world is just carrying her along.

Envy almost runs straight into the door, she's staring so intently at the ground, focusing on the leaves that coat the ground as she walks over them. Class. School. Focus.

(_"-shut up, just shut up –")_

_ ("-hold still-")_

_ Why didn't I scream? _she wonders suddenly, her stomach dropping into her boots. _Why didn't I scream?_

She stands in the doorway like that for – she doesn't know how long. All she can hear is her heart pounding against her ribs like she's just run a race, until suddenly there's a hand on her shoulder. She nearly screams.

"Whoa! Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you." It's Russell. Envy's heart sinks – she was hoping it was Ed, but then she winces inwardly and reminds herself that Ed isn't anyone special, Ed and Russell and Ling are all her friends, and besides –

(_"-come on it's not like anybody else-")_

_ ("-dressed like a fuckin hooker-")_

"Sorry," she exhales. "Just lost in thought."

"Well, class starts in five minutes. What is it today? Math?"

"You're the one with the brain, you tell me." She follows him, but he glances behind him with a concerned look. She tries to school her face into something else, because if the sarcastic, knuckleheaded Russell can pick up on something, then she's not hiding it well enough.

So she puts on the mask and pretends she doesn't feel ugly and broken, pretends that everything is the same, pretends that nothing has changed, because nothing has, really.


End file.
